


if you're wondering (i want you to)

by speakingincode



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Office AU, for after work drinking, tsukishima is Pining pining. we stan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 05:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingincode/pseuds/speakingincode
Summary: The first time Tsukishima met Yamaguchi, there was a small smearing of mustard on the navy blue of his tie, and the first thing he thought was that he didn’t respect him.Or: Three times Yamaguchi accidentally tells Tsukishima the way he feels about him, and one time Tsukishima tells him.





	if you're wondering (i want you to)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for my friend [liah](https://twitter.com/elijahkrista)'s birthday!!! i won't get emotional here bc i'm about to get emotional on twitter but liah if you're reading this i love and would die for you, also if you're not liah and you're reading this please send her and her art love if you haven't already!! she draws very cute tsukkiyama, also she is very nice and very good 💞💞💞
> 
> the title of this is from [the weezer song of almost the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDIzMGh94vo). we're throwing it back!! also i couldn't do the parentheses because i'm not godless like rivers cuomo.
> 
> real quick, thanks to [adél](https://ao3.org/users/bananasloth) for helping talk through the first part way back when and my brother has no fandom presence but i got the entire last scene of his fic from just talking to him so i promised him i'd give him that ao3 shoutout. truly, we are nothing without the people we love :''')
> 
> okay, last thing, there are small flashback dialogue snippets at the end of every section that are italicized and denoted by a "+". they're just for fun! don't worry too much about them. please enjoy the story and happy birthday liah!!! 🍰🍰

\- ❀ -

The first time Kei met Yamaguchi, there was a small smearing of mustard on the navy blue of his tie, and the first thing he thought was that he didn’t respect him.

Kei can’t help but remember that now, face to face with Yamaguchi in the doorway of his apartment. His nose is a severe shade of red, his eyes glistening too much in the glaring hallway light, and it’s unfair, probably, to be thinking of it in this exact moment, but he’s wearing a faded oversized Poraemon shirt over sweatpants cut into shorts and Kei can’t stop the memory.

Still, the thought that really can’t escape Kei’s mind as he looks at Yamaguchi is how exactly he ended up in this situation. Like he’s some kind of gofer instead of the most productive employee on their floor.

Well. Since Yamaguchi joined. Second-most productive. But there’s something to be said about quality over quantity, Kei thinks, especially since Yamaguchi’s always insistent about having him check over his work when he isn’t sure, and he’s seen all the mistakes that persist through the blazing heat of over-eagerness and spent hours correcting them.

But Kei knows how he ended up here, even if Yamaguchi still doesn’t. The empty cubicle next to him leaving a strangely sour taste in his mouth, the way their supervisor accosted him the half-minute he’d been looking at it, frowning a little condescendingly and saying, _Worried about your friend? _And then asking him to bring him some work documents because they were so close, and replying to Kei’s denial with _You two aren’t close? He always talks about you._

And then remembering… the way Yamaguchi smiles at him when he sees him, and how he always offers him a banana when he says he hasn’t eaten breakfast even though he’s never taken it. How seriously he stares at his computer when he does his work. Brow furrowed, concentration unshakable. Kei knows from the times he interrupted him to ask if he was skipping lunch.

Work is important to Yamaguchi, in a way Kei could never understand feeling about spreadsheets and their annoying clients, so of course he’ll bring him documents if he needs them. Yamaguchi would probably go out of his mind with worry otherwise.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asks, nickname muffled by the congestion in his nostrils. There’s a soft scratching at the edge of his voice, a cough threatening to come on if Yamaguchi doesn’t start taking better care of himself. “How are you… Why are you here?”

Kei’s first thought, looking at Yamaguchi again, is that he should stop working overtime so often. If the way Yamaguchi is now is what it does to you. His second thought races past it, something about how Yamaguchi seems tired and maybe he woke him up and he probably shouldn’t have.

Which is— stupid. Because it isn’t like Kei was given a choice, not really, and Yamaguchi is the kind of person who would prefer to be woken up for work than not do it at all, but… About Yamaguchi, that’s probably what got him this sick in the first place, and… Kei isn’t sure.

“I tried to call you from the train station. You must have been asleep,” Kei says as he unzips his laptop bag and pulling out the slim manila folder their supervisor left on his desk. “Kuroo-san asked me to bring you this.”

Yamaguchi crosses his arms over his chest like Kei can unsee his unfortunate outfit, self-conscious now that he brought attention to it. “Sorry, Tsukki.” His voice is less lively as he takes the folder from him, more genuinely apologetic than when he usually says it. He squints as he looks over the papers, swaying just slightly as he stands, and starts muttering to himself, too soft for Kei to keep track of. “I thought he would just email… I didn’t think he’d make you come all the way here…”

Kei puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him, just because as lanky as Yamaguchi is, he’s never seen him the way he is now, like he could be toppled by a gentle breeze. Yamaguchi’s eyes widen as he lifts his head to meet his gaze.

“Oh, I— Let me make you tea! It’s not really a short trip, and you came here just to bring this to me, so I should, uh… Come in.” Yamaguchi steps back in his doorway, holding it open and gesturing with a tilt of his head for Kei to go inside.

Kei wants to reject the offer, wants to turn around and head home and get some much-needed sleep before whatever virus is tearing apart Yamaguchi’s immune system zeroes in on him, but Yamaguchi’s guilty expression is annoying and the way it looks like he’s having difficulty standing is tugging on Kei’s conscience.

No matter how much sleep he’s had, Kei’s almost sure he hasn’t had enough (especially since he’d been texting their supervisor about work) and Kei brought him a folder full of more things to do. He should make sure he’s at least doing the bare minimum of taking care of himself.

Yamaguchi’s one-room apartment is a sad affair, empty containers of instant ramen and boxes of curry strewn around the room, a small trashcan by his desk nearly overflowing with used tissues.

“Sorry it’s not that nice,” he says, making his way around the apartment like he’s floating. “I didn’t know you were coming, so…”

“I’m here because you’re sick. I don’t mind if you can’t play host,” Kei replies, holding back a sigh. That Yamaguchi feels more guilty over not having a spotless apartment than the countless times he’s asked Kei to look over his work… He really is a strange kind of person. Annoying, maybe.

(Even if Kei does find an odd kind of comfort in the days he stays overtime just to help Yamaguchi with something. Not the work, really, but… something in the way Yamaguchi says thank you. How he smiles when he says it. The chatter that fills the air as they walk together towards the train station. It’s— beside the point.)

“Sit down,” Kei says as Yamaguchi tries to push past him to get to the kitchenette. “Do your work. That’s why I came, isn’t it? I’ll make the tea.”

Yamaguchi is hesitant, but plops into his desk chair, like his legs suddenly gave out. His head seems light as he turns towards his laptop screen, though Kei might be imagining things. But there are things he isn’t imagining, too – the way Yamaguchi hasn’t smiled the entire time Kei’s seen him, the odd lightness in his voice that makes it seem like he’s half here and half somewhere else except for when he’s panicking about something that doesn’t matter.

An unwelcome memory springs to Kei’s mind – that conversation with their supervisor today, Kuroo waving around a manila folder. _You wanted to check on him anyway, didn’t you? I’m just giving you an excuse. _

“I… guess you’re right,” Yamaguchi says, and Kei remembers where he is. “But…”

“Don’t waste your time, Yamaguchi,” Kei says, firm enough that Yamaguchi just nods and turns towards his laptop. He watches as he starts squinting at the documents in the folder and decides that Yamaguchi is probably well enough if he’s able to go into work mode this quickly.

Yamaguchi’s teapot is sitting on the stove already, still sloshing with water Kei hopes to himself is newer rather than older. After it’s dumped into Yamaguchi’s sink and washed and refilled, Kei sets it back and leaves the water to boil.

Kei rifles through Yamaguchi’s cabinets then, finds a tin of jasmine tea tucked behind the stash of instant food stacked in his kitchen cabinet. It’s suspiciously light when Kei picks it up, just enough for one more pot left.

Just like Yamaguchi hasn’t been taking care of himself, he hasn’t been taking care of his apartment either. Absently, Kei wonders what he does on his days off. If all he does is bring his job home and sleep.

He smiles too much, Kei thinks, to lead a life that depressing. And it’s not as if Kei should be talking, anyway, like he has anything more special than calls to family and occasional get-togethers with university acquaintances he hasn’t been able to shake. But he also knows their job isn’t worth dying over, or at least getting as sick as Yamaguchi is now.

It’s funny. New guy or not, they’re around the same age, and Kei knows this isn’t his first job. But behind the fake enthusiasm he uses to line his nervousness, the vulnerability he showed that first night he asked Kei for help, there’s something else, too.

His eyes are… bright. Kei doesn’t think his eyes have ever been that bright.

Work is— only work. Especially at times like this, Kei wishes Yamaguchi cared less about it. But also, it isn’t really that that matters, what Yamaguchi cares about, more than… the way Yamaguchi is, when he gets like that. Seeing the determination sparkling behind his eyes, the way he puts every part of himself into getting something done.

Romantic, maybe. To care about something that much. Like something out of a shounen manga, saving the world because you believe you can. Even if it’s only a desk job, even if Yamaguchi’s only human. To care enough to want that is…

The high-pitched whistle of Yamaguchi’s teapot cuts off Kei’s train of thought, and he shakes his head. Ridiculous thing to think about. He transfers it to the little ceramic pot at the edge of the counter and brings it to the small kotatsu at the center of the room. After he fishes out two small tea mugs and leaves them on the table, too, he leans over Yamaguchi’s shoulder to see what he’s doing.

“Ah, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi yelps midway through turning his head towards the folder again. “I didn’t see you.”

“The tea is steeping,” Kei says, pulling up a stool at the corner of the room to sit next to Yamaguchi. “What are you doing that’s so important you have to work on it the day you called out?”

“It’s just, uh—” Yamaguchi starts to respond, but Kei pushes past him to look closer at his computer screen. He’s— strangely pliable, warm against Kei’s shoulder, but it doesn’t really matter.

“This is for the clients we met last week? They’re not expecting it done until next Saturday by the earliest. You should be resting,” he says. “I don’t know what Kuroo-san was thinking, telling me to bring me this to you. Like you don’t work hard enough.”

“No, I… asked him to. Actually, he didn’t want to at first, but I convinced him.” Yamaguchi rubs the back of his neck, glances over at Kei with a weak pout over his lips. He sniffs. “I guess I… I guess I was making trouble for him already, but I wish he didn’t make you come all the way here.”

“That’s…” _That’s not what I meant, Yamaguchi._ The state he’s in, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to get his message across anyway. “Don’t worry about that. The tea is done steeping.”

Kei turns from Yamaguchi then, pours them both tea, gingerly placing Yamaguchi’s mug by the keyboard. “Thank you, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, picking the cup up with both hands as he drinks from it. He stares down the bottom of his mug like he can read tea leaves, and then darts his eyes towards Kei, leaving his gaze the second Kei looks back. “You know, I— I know I invited you in for tea, but you made it, and— if you don’t want to, you don’t have to…”

“What are you talking about?”

It isn’t enough to faze Yamaguchi, to stop him from babbling. “Oh, uh! Since you came here after work, you must be— I don’t have time to cook a lot, so I can’t really offer you… I have instant curry, or… the other day, they were selling this super spicy ramen at the store and I wanted to try it, I don’t know if you, uh, like things like that, but—”

_I’m fine_, Kei wants to say, because Yamaguchi needs to stop worrying about other people while he’s the one that looks like he’s on death’s door, but maybe because Yamaguchi had started thinking about food, started bringing up all the things he could make for him – Yamaguchi’s stomach rumbles. Kei thinks about saying something sharp then, something about projection, but Yamaguchi is sick and not taking care of himself, so Kei just says, “Have you been eating?”

“Mostly I’ve been sleeping and, uh, trying to look at stuff on my laptop, so…” Yamaguchi won’t meet his eyes, embarrassed over a second-long rumble like he isn’t wearing a Poraemon shirt. “It’s fine, though! I can make ramen in a minute, so…”

Kei heaves a sigh. “You’re right. I am hungry,” he says, remembering the small grocery store he passed on the way to his apartment. “I think I’ll eat here. Let me borrow your keys. Have you been taking cold medicine?”

“Usually when I get sick, I just, uh, sleep it off. But you don’t have to—”

Kei stops himself from exhaling. Like Yamaguchi is anywhere close to sleeping anything off. “Your keys, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi hesitates, but Kei doesn’t back down, so he swoops down to fish something out his bag pocket and presses cold metal into Kei’s hands.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

It ends up being faster. The rice porridge recipe Kei’s mother taught him before he left for university is simple and Yamaguchi’s kitchen isn’t in such dire straits he’s running out of rice so all he needs to pick up are scallions and the cold medicine he always takes.

When Kei gets back to the apartment, Yamaguchi’s passed out on his laptop, face pressed into the keyboard, and Kei laments that neither of them expected this to happen. He puts his bags down and shakes Yamaguchi gently by the shoulders, and Yamaguchi’s head pops up so quickly he almost hits Kei in the chin. “Tsukki!?” he says, shocked for a second until he turns back to the laptop screen in front of him and rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, I… I guess I got tired…”

“Don’t be stupid, Yamaguchi. Go to sleep. Actually—” Kei picks up the pharmacy bag he left on the table, fishes out the box of pills he picked up, pulls out the blister pack, and hands it to Yamaguchi. “Take this and go to sleep. It’s what I take when I get sick.”

It’s a drowsy pill, too, but Kei doesn’t tell him that. Not that Yamaguchi needs a pill to make him tired, anyway.

He watches Yamaguchi think about it, brain still half-asleep, but he takes the medicine from Kei and downs it with a swig of cooled tea. “I’m just going to— I’ll be done with this in about an hour, so—”

The way Yamaguchi overthinks, he actually means three hours, but it’s not like Kei intended to let him work for one. “Go to sleep. You’ll be more behind if you have to call out again because you didn’t spend your sick day getting better.”

Yamaguchi looks at Kei like he doesn’t believe him, or maybe like he didn’t process his words at all, but Kei tugs on his upper arm and Yamaguchi stands up, lets Kei maneuver him back into his bed. “But I have to—” Yamaguchi babbles even as he snuggles his pillow.

“Just sleep. I’ll do it,” Kei concedes, and thinks to himself he should’ve known this was going to happen the second their supervisor handed him that folder. With the way Yamaguchi is.

And— as much as he hates the idea, it’s not that different from staying late to look over Yamaguchi’s work. And he hates the idea of Yamaguchi falling asleep on his laptop and getting sicker more.

But Kei is almost hungry now and Yamaguchi hasn’t eaten all day, so he heads to the kitchen first, starts making the meal he hasn’t made in ages for his kouhai from work. While he’s letting the rice soak, he picks up Yamaguchi’s still-open laptop and glances over it.

If it didn’t mean Kei had more to do, he’d laugh at Yamaguchi’s fever-ridden files, the dozens more mistakes than usual making it almost impossible to make out what Yamaguchi was trying to do. If Kei didn’t know him. Still, that Yamaguchi said he’d be done in an hour… his cold was affecting him more than he thought.

Kei decides to get as far as Yamaguchi would have gotten if Kei let him work that hour, and it’s easy to get back into it as he corrects Yamaguchi’s errors the way he always does. By the time the porridge is done simmering, he’s made good headway, enough that he thinks Yamaguchi won’t feel guilty for going back to sleep.

He saves his work and closes the laptop then, heads back to the kitchen and spoons the porridge into bolls, garnishes with scallions and nori and brings two bowls to sit on Yamaguchi’s night-table. Sitting on the stool he pulled to the side of Yamaguchi’s bed, he shakes him awake again. “Yamaguchi, wake up.”

It’s a heavier sleep than the way he was with his face in his keyboard, and it takes a while for Yamaguchi to snap out of it. Even as Kei tugs on his arms so he’ll sit up, he still seems confused, not giving him anything more than a “Tsukki?” of recognition and a but Kei doesn’t really mind, as long as he eats and rests.

Thinking of that, Kei thrusts the bowl of porridge towards Yamaguchi’s chest. “Eat this.” Yamaguchi just holds the bowl with both hands for a bit, still half asleep, so Kei sighs and takes the spoon and says, “Open your mouth.”

Yamaguchi does, and it’s a bizarre experience, spoon-feeding his coworker, but Yamaguchi takes the spoon from his hands then – warm, rough fingers over his own, it doesn’t matter – and mumbles incoherently around the food in his mouth.

Yamaguchi feeds himself then, and even if it’s slow and Kei still watches him as he eats to make sure he doesn’t spill it all over himself, it’s better than hand-feeding him, so Kei takes what he can.

The whole time Yamaguchi eats, he never really wakes up the way he did before, but there’s something strangely calming about it. Watching Yamaguchi grin to himself while he gulps down Kei’s bland porridge like it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten, calm instead overenergetic, happy instead of nervous.

It’s weird, maybe, thinking about it this way. But Yamaguchi at least listens to him when he’s likes this.

When they’re both done, Kei collects their bowls, the mugs and the teapot, and cleans up, leaving everything upside down in the drying rack. He takes out the tin of jasmine tea he bought at the grocery store and pulls a post-it off of Yamaguchi’s desk, scribbling _Porridge in the fridge. Take better care of yourself _and leaving it on the counter.

When Kei turns from the kitchenette, he notices Yamaguchi hasn’t laid back down and sighs. “Go back to sleep. I’m going home now.”

Yamaguchi doesn’t move, just grins at him, and Kei thinks to himself that he should have predicted this. He takes him by the shoulders again, gently trying to lower him back into his bed, but just as Kei thinks he’s made progress, he’s enveloped in a strangely comforting, if slightly damp warmth, and suddenly, he hears, “I love you, Tsukki!”

And it’s— Yamaguchi is really warm, for one thing, which is bad and he should get more sleep, not to mention that it’s the last thing Kei expected Yamaguchi to say even though it’s— childish more than romantic, the way he says it, not that Kei wanted it to be romantic, not that Kei thinks it even means anything because he knows Yamaguchi’s half-asleep in a fever-fueled haze, but—

Yamaguchi lets go of Kei then, presses his lips to his cheek, and then lies down again, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. In a second, the room goes silent except for his gentle snoring.

If his cheeks feel warm, Kei thinks to himself, it’s because he was stupid and spent his entire afternoon catching his coworker’s debilitating fever. Not because— Not for any other reason.

Really.

\- ❀ -

Kei calls out that Friday with the worst fever he’s had in years.

Yamaguchi shows up at his apartment.

+

_“Thank you so much, Tsukishima-senpai! I know I asked you to do a lot, and I— I really appreciate it! Sometimes I don’t really understand things and I get nervous, or—”_

_“It’s fine. It wasn’t that difficult. You shouldn’t be so unsure of yourself, you know. It isn’t like you make that many more mistakes than any other person.”_

_“Really? I… I appreciate that a lot, but I… I don’t want to turn in anything that’s worse than the best I can do! I… guess that sounds kind of childish, and I know I’m being a burden on you, but—”_

_“It’s _fine_. If I didn’t want to help you, I would say no. You don’t need to be so self-conscious.”_

_“Sorry. Or, uh, I mean— Thank you again, senpai!”_

_“You don’t need to call me senpai. Just Tsukishima is fine, Yamaguchi-san.”_

_“Really? Then, um, you should just call me Yamaguchi! And… hm…”_

_“Is something wrong?”_

_“Can I call you Tsukki?”_

< - ❀ - ❀ - >

The first Kei hears when he gets into work is an, “Oi, Tsukki!” and just for a second, he thinks about turning around and leaving the way he came.

His supervisor is smiling at him, the kind of shit-eating grin that tells Kei to prepare for the worst. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he says, and Kuroo waves it off.

_Tsukki_. In the least sentimental way, work has gotten leagues more enjoyable since Yamaguchi joined their company: He’s a lot more competent than the person who was in the cubicle next to Kei before – a person a little older than the two of them who quit and opened a restaurant – and he doesn’t have to do the lion’s share of the work anymore, as much as Yamaguchi asks him for help. It’s also nice to have his cubicle next to someone so pleasant, even if the last person wasn’t exactly annoying – just, something about how it feels to see someone every morning who acts the way Yamaguchi does. Not to be sentimental – Yamaguchi is the kind of person, Kei thinks, anyone would eventually become fond of.

Still. There’s one way work became worse when Yamaguchi came, and it’s the person standing in front of Kei now. And that is— He’s known Kuroo for a few years at this point, and he’s probably the person on their floor that liked him the most before Yamaguchi came, but he’s also…

Kuroo is good at reading people. Maybe that should make Kei feel good about himself, since Kuroo is obviously fond of him no matter how curt Kei is with him, but Kuroo is good at reading people, and Kuroo also likes irritating Kei. Which means that when Yamaguchi came, Kuroo could immediately tell that Kei wasn’t annoyed by him, and he started teasing him about it mercilessly.

Asking him to tell his new friend to come meet him in his office, bringing up how he comes drinking more often now that he has a buddy there. _Tsukki_, echoed in Kuroo’s smug tone. Yamaguchi seems to like that Kuroo uses the nickname, too, (“_Like I started a trend!_”) so Kei hasn’t been too aggressive about asking him to stop, but it doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t like to hear it.

“I wish you didn’t have such an awful look on your face all the time, but we learn to deal with things,” Kuroo says. “Anyway, today’s Yamaguchi’s birthday. We’re going drinking. You’re coming, aren’t you?”

Yamaguchi’s birthday. It’s childish, maybe, and something Kei never cared much about and then cared even less about once he started working, but he should have realized Yamaguchi had one. If he would’ve got him anything, done anything if he knew, Kei isn’t sure, but Yamaguchi seems like the kind of person to care about it. Or to like it if someone cared about it.

Just a little bit, Kei feels something weigh down on him, something almost like guilt, more like jealousy. To be learning this from Kuroo. And it’s on another level of petty, enough to make Kei feel like a high schooler, and Kei is about to chide himself for it, but Kuroo exhales and says, “Oh, don’t look like that. He didn’t tell me, you know? I have your birthdays on my calendar. It keeps morale up.”

Kuroo realized. That’s embarrassing. Kei rubs the back of his neck and then shakes it off, sending a polite smile his supervisor’s way. “Ah, morale. You’re an amazing boss, Kuroo.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Kuroo says, grinning at Kei again in the terrible way he does. Kei decides to let him have that one, settling for watching Kuroo grow antsy as the comment sits. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. You’re coming, aren’t you? He gets upset when you’re not there.”

Kei sighs. As if Yamaguchi is the kind of person to make a scene around his coworkers. “You’re exaggerating.”

“You wouldn’t expect it, but he’s an emotional drunk. It’s nice to see him stop being so polite, anyway.” Kuroo smiles to himself at the thought, and then fixes Kei with the sort of look that irritates him to his core. “He’s pretty cute, isn’t he? Especially when he’s happy. So come tonight, won’t you?”

Kuroo’s words grate on Kei, an irritating feeling tugging at Kei about something like the way the word _cute_ sounded on Kuroo’s tongue, imagining Yamaguchi drinking with Kuroo while he becomes the world’s biggest diet soda enthusiast when Kei’s around.

Kei shakes his head. Stupid to feel like this. Like he needs to be his cubicle neighbor’s best friend or he’s failed something. Like he doesn’t know that Yamaguchi likes him by now. He knows the kind of person Yamaguchi is, and more than that, the kind of person that his supervisor is.

Kuroo likes to annoy him like this. When he’s bored, when he wants Kei to do something and thinks he can only do it by being insufferable. He remembers that awful two weeks that Kuroo wanted him to apply for a promotion.

Kei knows what Kuroo’s implying, the way he’s trying to get a rise out of him. Stupid to play along. Better to just end the conversation now. “You don’t need to be so persistent,” Kei says. “I’d go even if you didn’t ask.”

“I know,” Kuroo replies, his awful smile turned disgustingly gleeful. “I just thought it’d be nice to hear you say it.”

Kuroo is good at reading people. Kei wishes he wasn’t.

\- ❀ - ❀ -

The evening is fine, and then Kuroo buys a round of shots for the table.

“Normally I don’t mind, but you should drink at least a little,” Kuroo says to Yamaguchi after he orders it. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? It’s good luck.”

That’s not a superstition Kei has ever heard, but he doesn’t care enough to interrupt, just continues nursing the mug of beer he always orders to get the guys at his office off his back about being a spoilsport.

That’s never applied to Yamaguchi, which Kei learned a while ago, and it would irritate him if it didn’t make so much sense. Something to do with the kind of person that Yamaguchi is; if Nishinoya asked him to stay after work multiple times a week, as much as he’s grown on Kei, he’d humor him maybe once, and then tell him to handle it himself.

Even if Yamaguchi apparently drinks when Kei isn’t around, he’s sure it isn’t because of peer pressure. If Yamaguchi goes to an izakaya and only orders a melon soda, you appreciate that he’s there at all. Of course Kei understands that.

He’s thinking about it as he watches Kuroo talk to Yamaguchi, the way Yamaguchi is uncertain as he says, “Ah, is that really true? Then, uh— Thank you, Kuroo-san!”

Suddenly and vehemently, Kei is gripped by the desire to take Kuroo aside, talk to Kuroo about how it should be enough for him that Yamaguchi is even here, but before Kei can say anything, Kuroo talks again. “Consider it my birthday present,” he says, sending a smile Yamaguchi’s way for once devoid of any smugness. “Though I told you ‘Kuroo’ is fine, didn’t I?”

“Ah, sorry, Ku— Kuroo!”

Kei shakes his head then, gnaws on a soybean pod to ground himself. That he even thought about doing something that stupid. The beer on tap must be stronger that usual.

“Are you okay, Tsukki?” Kei suddenly hears, and Yamaguchi’s turned away from Kuroo now, looking straight at him. It’s not something Kei isn’t used to, not like they don’t spend evenings in a nearly empty office together regularly, but it feels louder somehow, Yamaguchi with his gaze fixed on him, the bustle around them – the newest argument between Hinata and Kageyama, made more stupid by alcohol, Nishinoya and Tanaka trying to outdrink each other while Ennoshita moderates – somehow disappearing when Yamaguchi fixes him with a look like that. Another thing Yamaguchi can do that somehow still doesn’t surprise him.

Or— Hah. He’s acting ridiculous today. His drink really is too strong. “I’m fine,” Kei says, breaking their shared gaze. He picks up another soybean pod and gnaws on it again.

Yamaguchi frowns at him, and that’s the kind of luck Kei has, he thinks. That he makes his favorite co-worker unhappy at his own birthday party. Though… a little childish and generous, that description.

Kei shakes his head. He’s overthinking again.

“You should eat more!” Yamaguchi says, and puts two dumplings on his plate. Obediently, Kei eats them – too greasy, but hopefully they’ll balance out the alcohol – and Yamaguchi exhales heavily. “Sorry. You must be tired. I made you stay all those days this week and you have to stay for this, too.”

Just like him to make Yamaguchi unhappy, just like Yamaguchi to invent a reason to be. Kei thinks about patting him on the head, and then thinks better of it. “It’s your birthday, Yamaguchi,” he decides on saying. “You shouldn’t be apologizing for anything. Especially for this. I’m here because I want to be. Of course I’d want to be here, if it’s for you.”

Kei’s cheeks are hot. The alcohol, he thinks. But Yamaguchi grins then, the kind of smile that’s so wide it splits his face in half, and Kei forgets what he was thinking about. “You’re really— You’re really nice, Tsukki!” he says. “You know I— when I asked you to help me that first time, it was just because Kuroo-san recommended I ask you, and it’s true you do really good work, but also— also you’re really nice, and, uh—”

“It’s— It’s fine,” Kei says. The room is suddenly hot again.

“Sorry, I just— I’m really happy you came today!”

Yamaguchi is grinning, still, fists clenched in excitement, and it’s one of those things about him, too, that Kei thinks about maybe too often. That he can feel things like that, and then just say them, smile wide, totally unabashed. He thinks about what to say, and then swallows. “I… I like you, too, Yamaguchi,” Kei says, staring into wide brown eyes until his core compels him to stop. “Happy birthday.”

Yamaguchi is still smiling, and it seems like he’s about to say something, but the waiter comes over right then with the tray of shots Kuroo ordered and he makes a big deal of it.

“To Yamaguchi,” Kuroo says, shot glass raised.

“To Yamaguchi!” everyone chimes in after, Kei included, and there’s something nice about watching the way Yamaguchi reacts as everyone reaches towards him after they drink. The little grin he can’t help as Tanaka and Nishinoya smack his back, the meek, slightly embarrassed “thank you” that escapes his lips as Kageyama taps him on the shoulder and greets him, how he laughs when Hinata stumbles towards him to say happy birthday.

As for Yamaguchi, the drink takes a while to hit him, but once it does, it’s the kind of thing you can read off of his face. Staring at into space for a long time, reacting to the things people tell him like he’s only half understanding. It’s only on the further side of tipsy, and Kei has no idea why Yamaguchi would be embarrassed over such a harmless kind of drunk, but it makes Kei disingenuous for blaming the way he was acting on alcohol. Looking at Yamaguchi, he has no right to complain.

Kei watches as Kuroo moves back to where he was sitting after clearing the way for everyone to greet Yamaguchi, how he pats Yamaguchi on the head as he tells him happy birthday. “Thanks, Kuroo-san!” Yamaguchi says, smiling too widely.

“Eh, I said to just call me ‘Kuroo’ already tonight,” he replies, a little distressed. Kei can’t hold back a snort, and Kuroo moves his gaze to him. “Hey, Tsukki! You didn’t drink your shot. I paid for that, you know.”

Kei rolls his eyes. “I would hope so,” he says. “Anyway, you know I don’t like drinking. What did you expect?”

“I thought you’d at least drink to Yamaguchi. You’re awful, you know that?” He turns to Yamaguchi. “Hey, Yamaguchi. This guy didn’t even toast you on your birthday. He’s a terrible guy, isn’t he?”

“Tsukki’s really cool!” Yamaguchi says. “And— uh! Tsukki doesn’t have to drink if he doesn’t want to!” Yamaguchi is a little stern now, and Kei has to hold back the grin pulling at the edges of his mouth. “I’ll— I’ll drink it for you, Tsukki!”

“I don’t think you should—” Kei starts to say, but before he even finishes speaking, Yamaguchi’s already grabbed the glass by his side and emptied it. Kuroo whoops.

“You’re a real cool guy, aren’t you, Yamaguchi?”

Pointless conversation. Kei stands up and steals away to the restroom, since it’s winding on the end of the night. It’s not like it’s worth telling Kuroo that he toasted Yamaguchi over beer, anyway. Though maybe that is an insult, the way the beer they serve here tastes.

When he comes back, Yamaguchi seems to be having an incoherent conversation with Kuroo that Kei can only catch snippets of. “I love you!” he catches in Yamaguchi’s voice after Kuroo agrees vehemently with whatever he’s saying, and Kei rolls his eyes and tries to tune it out.

So this is why Yamaguchi was so guarded about drinking around him. As the person Yamaguchi spends the most time with, maybe he’d be embarrassed if he heard him tell everyone he loves them all night.

“Hey, Tsukki! I think I just received a love confession,” Kuroo says, turning to Kei as Yamaguchi slumps against the table, resting his head on the inside of his elbow. His eyes stay open as he studies the amber droplets of beer on Kei’s half-finished mug.

“He’s drunk,” Kei says. Kuroo waves him off.

“You’re no fun. Well,” he says, gesturing towards Hinata, asleep against Tanaka’s shoulders. “Kageyama’s taking him home. His punishment for making us listen to that argument all night. I’ll be heading out in a minute. Take care of Yamaguchi, won’t you? You remember where he lives.”

“About the bill—”

“I paid it. Everyone’s paying me back when they’re a little more sober. But you only ordered a beer, didn’t you? I don’t care about five hundred yen. Just take this kid home,” he says. and then taps Yamaguchi on the shoulder. “You’re going home with Tsukki, okay?”

Yamaguchi pops up again, smiles. “Okay!”

“Good kid,” Kuroo says, and then turns towards Tsukishima. “I took him back the last couple of times. He shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Ah, um.” Kei rubs the back of his neck. “Thank you, Kuroo.”

“Over the beer? Rare to hear that from you,” Kuroo says, smiling a little wryly. He stands up and slings his bag over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll see you Monday.”

When Kei tugs on Yamaguchi’s arm to lead him out of izakaya, he grins at him, that wide way he does only when Kei says something that makes him laugh. “I love you, Tsukki!”

“You say that a lot, don’t you, Yamaguchi.” He fixes a hand around his wrist, firm enough to keep him steady if he stumbles. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

\- ❀ - ❀ -

The next Friday, Kuroo beckons Kei over as he and Yamaguchi are about to break for lunch. “I’ll borrow him just a second, Yamaguchi.”

“Of course, Ku—” Yamaguchi swallows what he was about to say. “Kuroo. I’ll be at my cubicle, Tsukki!”

“Eh? You should take a break,” Kuroo says, but Yamaguchi’s already beelined back to his cubicle and Kuroo sighs and then heads back into his office, holding the door for Kei on the way in. “Anyway, Tsukki, I meant to ask. How are things with you and Yamaguchi?”

Strange question. Nosy, too, but it isn’t as if Kuroo’s ever been anything other than nosy. He wants to say _fine_, because other than the frantic call Kei received too early on Saturday morning – did Yamaguchi cause trouble, did Yamaguchi say anything strange, he’s sorry he had to take him home – they have been fine, Yamaguchi turning to Kei when he needs help and teasing him and tagging along after him, not the faintest trace of awkwardness, but—

There’s been one thing. Mostly innocuous, but odd enough that Kei noticed. On Monday asking him what his favorite food is. On Tuesday asking his favorite food that isn’t dessert. On Wednesday asking his favorite movie. Maybe just Yamaguchi prepping for some future he envisions where they’re closer friends or he has a reason to take him out – and that’s an oddly comforting thought, if it makes heat rise to his cheeks – but strange. That he’d get it all out now, and like this.

“Why are you—” Kei starts to ask, and then thinks of a better question. “Do you know something?”

“I do,” Kuroo says. “He’s taking you out tonight. He’s upset he missed your birthday, wants to make up for it, something like that. Got upset I didn’t do anything about it, too. Strange kid.”

It makes sense. Yamaguchi never asks him to stay on Fridays, but told him to slot time after work to help him with something that he wouldn’t elaborate on. Still… “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought I might be obligated to since I’m the one who gave up your birthday. Well, you know how hard it is to tell him no.” Kuroo shrugs noncommittally. “You enjoyed yourself last week, anyway. You can do it again. Though… I was hoping you’d have a better time than the one you had.”

Kei remembers. “You had fun with that, didn’t you? That he’s the kind of person to say I love you to everyone when he’s drunk.”

Kuroo stands up a little straighter, eyes Kei strangely. “Don’t tell me you took that joke I made about love confessions seriously. I said he was emotional, not affectionate. One time he told me my hair looks like a bird’s nest and started crying about a sparrow whose wing he tried to fix when he was a little boy. It was endearing. I thought you’d like it.”

It sounds more morbid than endearing, but Kei understands what Kuroo is talking about. He spent most of the train ride asleep on Kei’s shoulder, but he remembers the way he babbled while he was awake, how he always liked the color of his eyes because they reminded him of sunshine, how he always felt secure around him because he was so tall.

The kind of thing that sounded cute, if maybe backhanded, but Yamaguchi was curled so tightly around Kei’s arm then, the warmth of his body like a furnace, and Kei forgot about trying to make sense of the words he said.

And then Yamaguchi fell asleep again after Kei didn’t answer, and if he ran his hands through his hair a couple of times that night to help calm him down, he’d never tell.

Still. The memory is irrelevant now. Kei isn’t sure what Kuroo is trying to do, lying outright about Yamaguchi the way he is. “I heard him tell you he loves you. Why would he say that if he wasn’t that kind of drunk?”

“You heard that?” Kuroo says, his voice for some reason dull instead of smug, and he runs a hand through his hair. “He thought I was someone else. It isn’t my place to tell you who, but… you misunderstood what you saw.”

He thought Kuroo was someone else. That, and what Yamaguchi had said to him as he dragged him out of the bar, just before he left his apartment that night. As he looked him in the eye.

_I love you, Tsukki!_

But Yamaguchi was drunk, and it’s true he always says it in a way that sounds platonic. Like he’s saying it to an older brother. Anyway, if Yamaguchi didn’t know he was saying it, Kei should pretend he didn’t hear it, even if those words have been echoing through his skull, since before last week, from the first time he heard them even if he’d tried to forget it. The feeling of his lips pressed to his cheek—

Suddenly, Kuroo starts laughing, a little forced. “Can you imagine it? That kid telling me he loves me? It took him months to stop calling me ‘-san.’” He slumps back against his desk. “Well, you should go back to him. He’ll probably work through lunch if you don’t.”

He’s right, Kei knows. “I’ll see you later,” Kei says, turning around and leaving the things he’d been thinking about in the room behind him.

+

_“Yamaguchi.”_

_“Yeah, Tsukki?” _

_“Why do you work so hard?”_

_“Hey, are you asking me that because I got really sick last week? I already apologized to you for that, you know. I guess I can—”_

_“I got sick that week, too. You took care of me. I was just wondering. It’s only work. I don’t understand why you would do so much.”_

_“Well, I… When I just started, I wasn’t really that good at this stuff. I guess it’s not like I’m that great now, but… I don’t know. My coworkers at my old job, they… It’s not like I want to be the best, but they didn’t respect me, and… I don’t know. I didn’t like being treated like that. So when I started working here, I decided I was gonna be really good from the start! I don’t know if I really accomplished that, but…”_

_“I respect you, Yamaguchi. All of us do. We don’t need you to run yourself into the ground.”_

_“Hey, you said that this wasn’t about me getting sick!”_

_“It’d be nice if you took care of yourself, too.”_

_“Well, I’m happy that you respect me. And…”_

_“Hm?”_

_“At my old job, when I was trying to get better, I… I tried to ask a lot of my coworkers for help, but they all acted like I was bothering them, but when I came here, and I asked you… Well, you know! I’m just… I guess I’m really glad I met you!”_

_“That’s…”_

_“Huh?”_

_“…I’m glad I met you, too, Yamaguchi.”_

\- ❀ - ❀ - ❀ -

When Kei gets in to work, Yamaguchi immediately ducks into his cubicle, and it gets worse from there.

The silent treatment all morning is one thing; it’s a ridiculous act of denial, the kind of thing Kei would think is pathetic otherwise, but he can reasonably at least pretend to believe Yamaguchi is just wrapped up in work the way he sometimes gets. Because he cares about work that much. Because that’s how he is, and part of the reason Kei likes him so much.

But when Kei knocks on the wall of his cubicle and pokes his head in, reminds him about lunch like he always does so he doesn’t collapse from hunger and overwork, Yamaguchi looks at him and like a gazelle caught by a lion and stutters out, “Oh, um, uh— Go on without me, Tsukki! I’ll eat lunch in the break room later.”

_I’ll wait for you_, Kei thinks about saying. But it’s the same thing Kei had been thinking about earlier, that pathetic kind of denial, so he just nods and brings his lunch to the break room.

Kuroo is standing by the window when he goes in, cellphone against his ear. The conversation is already winding down by the time Kei sits down, and he spends his entire lunch break ignoring to Kuroo’s jibes about girl problems and sitting through him listing his latest concerns about his best friend.

But just as Kei gets up to leave, Kuroo asks, “You’re okay, Tsukki? You can talk to me if you aren’t. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Kei says, closing the door behind him.

He thinks about it, when he’s sitting at his cubicle. What Kuroo said to him. He’s known Kuroo for years, knows that as much that Kei knows and thinks about things that Kuroo has the unique ability to pinpoint precisely the exact thing Kei had been missing.

But Kei isn’t missing anything. Kei was there for what happened last night, knows exactly why Yamaguchi is scared to talk to him alone now. If he told Kuroo all of it, he knows what he would tell him to do. Knows it’s what he should do, because Kuroo only gives good advice or none at all.

He just doesn’t want to do it.

\- ❀ - ❀ - ❀ -

It’s funny, how when it comes to this, Yamaguchi suddenly loses his ability to pretend to be normal.

Other than work, other than putting in one hundred percent effort all the time, it’s the kind of thing Kei would say Yamaguchi was best at. Or at least most committed to. Hiding exhaustion behind smiles, disappointment behind a turn of his head. Of course Kei knows when Yamaguchi is pretending by now, but it’s strange how bad he gets at it when things become like this.

Because if Yamaguchi wanted to pretend what happened last night didn’t happen, Kei wouldn’t mind it, wouldn’t mind continuing the exact way they have been. Late nights at the office, going out for dinner when Yamaguchi’s tired of instant ramen, uncharacteristically personal conversations that fill their walk to the train station.

It’s good, the way things are now. Kei knows this acutely. Maybe overly sentimental, maybe futile, but Kei thinks he’d want things to stay like this for his entire life.

(_He’d do anything for things to stay like this his entire life._)

It’s a big deal over nothing, the exact kind of thing Yamaguchi always does, but Kei can’t stop thinking about it with this.

Falling asleep while Yamaguchi re-looked over something that Kei looked over for him. Waking up to the sound of his laugh, ringing softly though the air, but not enough to open his eyes. And then hearing, voice fragile and nearly awestruck, _You’re so pretty, Tsukki. It’s hard to notice until you’re asleep like this. I really— I really like you._

That odd fullness taking residence in his chest (that he feels again when he thinks about it now) but he’d froze, then, known that he couldn’t move or every part of their relationship would change in a way Kei didn’t know how to navigate, but warm fingers carded gently through his hair and he startled, and when Kei accidentally opened his eyes Yamaguchi’s face was so close to his, too close to be anything other than what Kei was afraid of and wanted more than anything—

And then Yamaguchi backed up, forced out something incoherent (_Sorry, Tsukki, I— I didn’t realize I— Everything’s done now, so I’m going to, uh, head home now, and— I’ll see you tomorrow!_), and ran out of the office.

The night should have been enough to cool down. It’d been enough for Kei. Because things like that— Kei knows they only count if you say them when you mean them. That they’re so easy to write off otherwise. All the times Yamaguchi told him _I love you_ and didn’t know it… Kei was there for them, and he knew they didn’t mean anything. And they stayed friends after that, and things were fine.

Kei just wants things to be fine.

Though. One day. Yamaguchi has been like this for one day. Even less that. Maybe Kei is overthinking it. Maybe soon Yamaguchi will be back to normal, and eventually they’ll both forget this ever happened.

(_Like Kei could ever forget about this_.)

Or maybe he won’t, and he’ll never stop being awkward around him again. And their relationship will never return to the way it’s always been. And Kei will lose Yamaguchi.

He’ll lose Yamaguchi. The exact thing he’s spent so long being afraid of.

Just a little bit, Kei wants to throw up.

\- ❀ - ❀ - ❀ -

When Yamaguchi strides past Kei’s cubicle, quiet and quickly, Kei waits for a minute to pass, and then follows after him.

The break room is empty except for Yamaguchi when Kei goes in, painted orange in the light of sunset. The room is silent except for the sound of the microwave – boiling cup ramen – and the sound of water running as Yamaguchi fills up a paper cup by the water cooler.

“Yamaguchi,” Kei says when he walks in, suddenly directionless. He chides himself for not thinking more about this before he followed.

Yamaguchi startles when he sees him, and Kei feels a little bit sicker. “Tsukki, uh— why are you— do you need something? I— If you need me to do something, I can—”

“I need you to let me talk to you,” he says. “About last night, I—”

Yamaguchi takes his cup out of the water cooler, and it’s shaking in his hands. Kei tries not to pay attention to it. “It’s, uh— We don’t have to— I don’t want to—”

“You’re right. No, I— Not last night. Do you remember that time I went to your house when you called out sick? That time I brought you home on your birthday?”

Yamaguchi takes a sip from his cup, probably just to avoid looking at Kei. He stares deep into the bottom of it, like he can find the future in the bottom of his cup. “I’ve… I’ve caused you a lot of trouble, haven’t I, Tsukki?”

“That’s not what I mean, Yamaguchi. You know that isn’t what I mean,” Kei says, and he starts walking closer to Yamaguchi, just slowly. Yamaguchi backs himself into the counter. Somewhere to their side, the microwave starts going off. “Those times, you told me… you told me, ‘I love you, Tsukki.’ What you’re afraid of is… It isn’t… No, this isn’t what I wanted to say.”

“Huh?” Yamaguchi says, and his voice is so high, so delicate. It tears at Kei’s chest.

“I’m the one who’s been afraid. The relationships I’ve had… It doesn’t matter. I like being your friend, Yamaguchi. I like working with you. More than I’ve liked anything in a long time. I didn’t want to lose it,” Kei says, and the words are strange in his voice. It doesn’t feel like he’s saying them. “I didn’t know, those times. If the things you said meant anything. Or if they did mean anything, if things might— It doesn’t matter. Yamaguchi, I—”

Yamaguchi won’t say anything, just keeps looking at him, like he’s frozen. Gently, Kei plucks the paper cup from his hands and puts it on the counter.

“It’s my turn to say it. I like you. Whatever way you feel about me. Whatever happens to us from here. I _like_ you.” The words hang over the room, seem to echo over the walls. Yamaguchi doesn’t say anything. Kei can’t look at him. “Is that okay?”

He hears the sound of Yamaguchi sniff, and when Kei looks up, Yamaguchi’s eyes are shining, relief pouring down his cheeks, a smile trying to break through his frown. “I was so scared, Tsukki! You shouldn’t have— I—”

“Sorry,” Kei says even as he feels his mouth start to curve upwards. There’s something about the way Yamaguchi looks now, so emotional and happy over something he shouldn’t have even been worried about. “Is it—”

“Of course it is! You already made me tell you three times. I won’t do it again,” Yamaguchi wipes his cheek with his sleeves. “Of course I like you,” he mumbles to himself, and then looks up at Kei again. “Can I— Since yesterday, I wanted to— Can I kiss you?”

It’s funny, to hear Yamaguchi ask like this. Kei can’t stifle his laugh.

“Tsukki! I’m being serious!” Yamaguchi says, jutting his lower lip out in a way that makes Kei want to laugh again.

It’s something, then the fullness inside of his chest, the warmth of Yamaguchi so close to him, that little pout, and he takes Yamaguchi’s cheek in his palm and presses his mouth to his.

It’s hungry, the way Yamaguchi kisses him, chapped lips against his own, the hunger of someone who tries to tell him the way he felt a thousand times before Kei replied, and— Kei feels stupid for that now, knows he was stupid, but it doesn’t matter anymore, the way Yamaguchi fits against him, the softness of his hair as Kei cards his fingers through it.

He knows how he feels. He isn’t afraid.

Eventually they part for air, and it’s lonely but it isn’t, the way Yamaguchi is grinning at him and has his arms around his neck and Kei can barely believe this is real. “I really like you, Yamaguchi,” Kei says, a breathlessness in his voice he doesn’t think he’s ever had before. Yamaguchi laughs.

“I know, Tsukki,” he says, and leans up to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! however you felt, i'd really appreciate it if you could leave feedback if it's possible for you, here or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jailsgrr/). have a great day!!!


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